The Bridges We Cross: How Being Seen Changes Everything

Originally published in 2019. Thoughtfully updated in 2026.

​When I was a child, I was afraid of bridges. My family camped a lot, and often we would hike hills and trails in faraway places, deep in forests with rivers and ravines. Inevitably, there would be a bridge across a gap that we would need to cross. They always, always looked unsafe to me. They looked rickety, creaky, or just plain dangerous. I never liked the idea of being suspended in the air, and I was terribly afraid I would slip through cracks or open sides and fall to my death. Funny thing is, now bridges are all I build. So how did that happen? How did I go from “big as you can imagine” fear to “this is what I love?”

A Little Girl Afraid of Bridges

I know exactly when it began to shift. We were camping with extended family, everything was wonderful. My favorite cousin was there, and we were having so much fun until the bridge came upon us. We were all out for a walk, and the others didn't hesitate to cross. Even my younger siblings stepped carelessly onto the wooden bridge while I froze inside.

The Courage to Take One More Step

I was too ashamed to admit that I was terrified, so when the fear came flooding through me, I held it in tightly and pushed it down deep into the dark basement places where no one else would suspect such big fear lived. I reached out and took a firm hold of the handrail, and then, only after I was holding on tightly, I took that first step. With each step toward the middle, the fear built within me. It was trying to escape from the basement, trying to leap out of my body. Now I was afraid, fighting to stay alive as I crossed this chasm, and fighting to hide all of that from everyone around me.

The Gift of Being Truly Seen

It always got better after the halfway point, but the fear stayed until I was well past the bridge and back on firm ground. This time, at about the three-quarter mark, my Aunt Pat walked up to me. She bent down and whispered into my ear, "You are afraid of bridges, aren't you?" It was the first time anyone had ever noticed! I was amazed. Her love peered deeply into me, and she saw what no one else had been able to see. She did that a lot.

"Healing doesn't always begin with an answer. Sometimes it begins the moment someone truly sees us."

Sometimes We Don't Need Someone to Rescue Us

For the first time in my young life, I admitted to someone that I was afraid of bridges. She smiled and told me she was afraid of bridges when she was young too. And with that, I felt understood. She may have taken my free hand. I'm not sure. What I do remember is that she gave me a tool to help me the next time. She told me it helped her to look ahead, look forward, and focus on taking the next step. That's all; don't look down, just look forward, focusing on every single step. And with that, it got easier.

I was loved, I had been seen, I had been understood, and I was given a tool to work through my struggles. I felt so much love in my heart that there was little room for the fear. When we crossed back over that bridge on our return, it was much easier for me, and every time after that it got easier and easier until, soon enough, the fear of bridges was completely gone.

The Bridges I Help Others Cross Today

Looking back now, I realize that bridges have become the heart of my work. Every day I have the privilege of walking beside people as they cross from fear to trust, from confusion to clarity, from heartbreak to wholeness. Sometimes those bridges lead back to intuition. Sometimes they lead into grief that has long been waiting to be felt. Sometimes they reconnect someone with Spirit, with nature, or simply with themselves. My role isn't to tell anyone where to go or to carry them across. It's to create a space where they feel seen, safe, and deeply supported as they discover that the strength to cross has always been their own. Like my Aunt Pat all those years ago, I simply remind them to breathe, look toward where they're going, and take the next step.

Love Makes the Crossing Possible

Looking back now, I see that day very differently. I don't remember the bridge nearly as much as I remember what happened on it. A loving adult paused long enough to notice what everyone else had missed. She saw beyond the brave face of a frightened little girl and quietly reminded me that I wasn't alone. She didn't carry me across. She didn't make the bridge disappear. She simply offered understanding, compassion, and one gentle piece of wisdom: keep your eyes on where you're going and take one step at a time.

Years later, I realize that this is still how healing happens. We rarely leap across the great chasms in our lives. We cross them one small step at a time, supported by people who see us, love us, and remind us of our own strength. Perhaps that is why I now find myself helping others cross their own bridges. Not because I know the way better than they do, but because I remember what it felt like to be the frightened little girl who simply needed someone to walk beside her. And if there's one thing I've learned, it's this: love doesn't remove the bridge. Love gives us the courage to cross it.